Our Tattoed Mistakes (All Will Fade Over Time)
by A. Zap
Summary: When one is raised as a soldier, when one fights in a war, scars should only be expected. Logically, she should've known that there would be some as there had been wounds in the past that had been near fatal. Adora still hadn't expected Catra to have so many. Femslash February Day 3: Scars


Sometimes Adora wondered if Catra just enjoyed frustrating her.

No, wait, she was pretty sure she did.

"Catra," Adora growled, running her hand down her face.

"What." Catra didn't move from where she was curled up on the giant, pillowy bed in the middle of her room. It was just like Adora's original bed, except Catra actually seemed to like it, at least for afternoon naps when the sunlight came into the room at just the right angle. Right now, she seemed plenty cozy, as she had been ignoring Adora for ten minutes before finally saying something. Only her ear flicking up marked that she was truly listening.

"You need. To Take. A bath."

That finally garnered a response and Catra uncurled enough to send her a flat, disgusted look.

Adora braced herself. She had known that this would be an uphill battle. Catra hated baths with a vengeance. In fact, she hated all bodies of water that were large enough for her to be dunked in. Even back at the Horde, trying to get Catra to bathe was a fight that eventually not even Shadow Weaver could force. Catra had kept herself plenty clean by taking showers, but even Adora had always been suspicious of how hygenic those were considering she rarely spent longer than five minutes under the water to clean everything.

"Catra, this is a ball to solidify our alliances against the Horde. We need to be at our most presentable; in other words, we have to be thoroughly clean." Adora tried to appeal to Catra's strategic abilities. If anyone could see how appearances could help sway others, Catra knew all the tricks of the trade.

Catra snorted and stretched out on the bed. She rested her head on her fist as she made no move to get up. "Last time I went to a ball I didn't take a bath and all the people thought I was more than cleaned up." She smirked at the red tinge that her words brought to Adora's face.

_Well, you certainly looked cleaned up._ Adora tried to squash the thought down as quickly as it came up. Princess Prom was still a sore spot for her, and Catra cackling at her expression was not helping.

"Yes, well, most of the attendants at that were princesses. We have several of the old Queens coming to this and from what Angella says, they are more…" Adora squinted trying to find the right word. Unfortunately, none of the words coming to mind were very flattering.

Catra just studied her before sighing. "Fine." With a light ease that Adora was frankly jealous of, Catra slipped off the bed and began walking towards the bathroom. "I'm sure if I don't, you'll just send Scorpia to 'help' me." She chuckled a bit at the thought.

Adora looked away, trying to keep the frown threatening to cross face from showing.

It wasn't that she didn't like Scorpia. Scorpia was great, she was kind, she was surprisingly emotive for someone whose parents had literally handed her over to the Horde to be raised. She often reminded Adora of Bow. Actually, Bow and Scorpia got on like one of Sea Hawk's boats being on fire.

And she was also glad that, just like her, Cara had found some friends of her own in Scorpia and Entrapta. Though Catra would never admit it, Adora knew that the two had been key to Catra eventually turning away from the Horde and they'd been vital in helping her lead the defection of a good chunk of the Horde's army.

It's just that it stung a bit sometimes, and she knew it was selfish of her, that Catra no longer would turn automatically to her.

Then again, Adora knew she'd brought that upon herself when she'd left Catra behind.

Adora was startled from her thoughts as a wad of clothes hit her in the face.

"Calm down. I'm going already." Adora could just hear the eye roll in Catra's voice. "Just stop thinking so hard; I can hear your brain whirring from over here."

Adora pulled the clothes off herself with a huff, a grin and retort already growing, but the sight before her made her breath choke in her throat as she froze.

Horde children were not shy when it came to nudity. It had caused a great amount of embarrassment on Bow and Glimmer's part when they first became friends that Adora felt no compunctions at stripping and getting dressed in front of other people. The dorms and locker rooms and showers at the Horde were co-ed and allowed no privacy, so naturally none of them thought twice about it.

But catching Catra without her clothes was not something Adora could ever remember happening. She'd zip through showers so fast that you would barely have time to get a glimpse. She'd zip through changing between her two issued sets of clothes that you'd scarcely notice the in-between part. Like in most things, Catra hated being vulnerable, and so she'd get through it as fast as possible.

Or so Adora had thought.

It may have also been so no one would notice the sheer amount of scars on her body.

If it had been the old days, Adora probably wouldn't have seen as many of them, considering how long Catra's hair had been to cover most of her back. But due to the fight with Hordak, where Catra had fought him as a distraction so Scorpia and Entrapta could get away with the other defectors and nearly died in the process, Catra's hair was now cut short just below her chin. It offered a full view of the scars crisscrossing her back.

Old scars, newer scars, a full range in terms of size and severity. They covered her back and went down all the way to the back of her thighs. From where she stood, gaping at Catra as she stood there in her underwear, still talking about something, Adora could see where scars curled towards the front of her body as well. There were just… so many. Adora couldn't really comprehend it.

She hadn't known they were there.

Some of the newer ones she could pinpoint their origin, especially the ones that she knew were from her fight with Hordak or while they were on opposing sides. But the older ones...

From how old some of those were, she _should_ have known about them.

"Adora?"

Adora gasped as she tore her eyes away to meet Catra's eyes. She was blinking puzzledly at her, headguard held loosely in her hand, until Adora saw the realization hit her and she instantly dropped her headguard and snatched a towel to cover herself more than her undergarments did, but it was too late.

She'd seen everything.

"Catra." Adora paused at the way her voice broke and she cleared her throat before trying again. "Catra, I - "

"It's fine." Catra quickly said. "It's fine. Don't make a big deal about it." But the way Catra was now avoiding her gaze told her everything.

"Catra, why - why didn't I - " Adora shut her mouth because she knew that if she continued she was going to start sobbing if the burning sensation in her eyes was any indication.

Catra's ears flattened and she clutched the towel closer. For a long second, Adora thought she wouldn't answer, but finally Catra murmured, "I thought you knew about them."

Adora looked at her in horror, but Catra kept talking.

"I mean, I made sure that you never really saw them, because even back then you had _such_ a martyr thing, but I thought you knew about them. I mean, I _was_ the squad screw up."

Adora opened her mouth to protest because that was decidedly not true; Catra continued before she could.

"There were consequences for that. Shadow Weaver always made sure of it." Catra finally looked up at her. "Adora, when I was sent to 'extra lessons' or punishments, what did you think was going on?"

To be honest, Adora had always thought that Catra had just been lectured or forced to do extra training. Even after learning what the Horde was really like, she had never thought to re-examine her memories for hints of its true nature. She hadn't really wanted to.

Catra's expression was almost pitying. "It wasn't just because of Shadow Weaver's… everything that I knew the Horde was bad, Adora."

And Adora hadn't noticed anything.

Just like always.

"Catra, I - "

"It's fine." Catra turned away, letting the towel drop as there was no point in hiding anymore. "Most of these are old news. Besides," her tail drooped down, "it's not like I'm the only one with scars."

Adora looked away.

She had a surprising lack of scars. There were a few nicks here and there from her Horde training back in the day, but most wounds she got as She-ra, which is how she usually fought, would disappear without a trace when she returned to herself.

All except for the scars from when Catra raked her claws down her back.

Adora knew Catra knew about those. The first time she'd seen them while lounging on Adora's bed while she changed had made her go silent. To Adora's surprise, it had been followed by a quiet apology which she'd, of course, accepted.

Still…

"But I should've noticed." Adora wiped the wetness away from her eyes.

Catra snorted and Adora heard the soft sound of her padding towards her. "Adora, look at me."

Adora couldn't deny her request, fully taking her in as she stood before her.

"Maybe you should've but you didn't. We can't change that." Catra said seriously. "But look, I'm here." She held her arms out. "I'm alive, I'm here, and these scars are just proof that no matter what they did, I survived."

Catra reached out and wiped the last tear from Adora's eye. "So that's why it's fine."

Adora didn't think as she pounced on Catra, pulling her into a tight embrace. Her hands ran across the scars, but they settled right over where she could feel Catra's heart beat. Because she knew Catra was right, but she needed just a bit more reassurance as some of these scars were from wounds that she knew had almost been fatal.

They were here.

They were alive.

And as long as they were, the scars would fade and become proof that they were both.

* * *

_AN: By the way, Catra's still in her underwear, so she's not totally naked._

_But yeah, considering that the Horde trains child soldiers and is evil, I'm pretty sure they used some manner of corporal punishment. And that can leave marks. Plus, there's a war going on, so that's not gonna be all flowers and rainbows (unless Perfuma's there or She-ra activates the Power of Gay Pride). So I'd expect Catra to have quite a few scars, though they made sure that they weren't totally obvious (they would avoid her face and arms since those were the only places not covered by her clothes). And I can't talk about scars without talking about the ones Adora probably has that have such symbolic meaning for these two._

_Also, the references to the fight with Hordak and everything is just part of how I'm imaging Catra's redemption arc. I actually have an idea for a fic about it, but I haven't gotten around to writing it yet. If I do, it'll be a mix of angst and some fluffier magical shenanigans that actually feeds the angst. But I saw fan art of Catra with shorter hair and instantly decided that that's her redemption look. After all, cutting your hair can represent cutting off your old life, right?_

_The title of this fic is from the song "When We Die" by Bowling for Soup. I thought this particular line was really good, and actually the whole song is about how as long as people are alive they can work through things and make up for past mistakes, which really suits Adora and Catra when they eventually make up._

_Also, a reminder that I wrote these in February when we only had season 1 and we'd gotten no hints of Prime yet so I thought Hordak or SW would be the final bosses._


End file.
